


You Say It Best When You Say Nothing At All

by Spoodlemonkey



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2019-2020 NHL Season, Based on an interview, Blow Jobs, Briefest mention of the quarantine, Cock Warming, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23726143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/pseuds/Spoodlemonkey
Summary: Sasha tosses him a smug smirk, sweats sitting low on his hips and chest bare. Anton nearly misses the next question, caught up as he is in the cut of his hips, on the visible, dark bite resting there.
Relationships: Anton Khudobin/Alexander Radulov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	You Say It Best When You Say Nothing At All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GreyMichaela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/gifts).



> So a couple of days ago I came across the Dobby interview where he's...in a towel??? He's shirtless, vaguely wet, and my brain melted. I sent it to Greymichaela (who managed to miss the video, too distracted by the screen shots lmao) and this idea was born in my head. 
> 
> Why yes, the title is a country song- I'm running out of ideas lol.
> 
> Unbeta'd cause I'm impatient so all mistakes are my own. Don't own the boys.
> 
> Stay safe!! <3

He’s late for the interview. 

It doesn’t matter that they’re isolated at home and the interview is  _ on his phone- _ he’s still late.

So he does the interview dressed in a towel. 

The house is warm and he’s  _ mostly _ dry, but most importantly the interviewer doesn’t comment, just asks the questions, and the conversation flows easily. Anton’s an old hat at these by now, despite having never performed one dressed only in a  _ towel, _ so it’s easy enough, fun even, to talk to someone  _ new. _

He loves Sasha but  _ damn- _ sometimes they just run out of things to talk about. 

His attention drifts with some of the simpler questions and it probably shows but he isn’t called on it, and if the world knew  _ why _ he was so distracted he’s sure they would understand.

There’s a reason he’s sitting in his kitchen in a towel. And it has just slunk into the room. 

Sasha tosses him a smug smirk, sweats sitting low on his hips and chest bare. Anton nearly misses the next question, caught up as he is in the cut of his hips, on the visible, dark bite resting there. 

He licks his lips and tries to focus. 

Sasha makes himself comfortable on the couch, stretched out like a big cat. He runs his hand idly across his chest, then lower when he’s certain he has Anton’s attention. 

Anton pastes on his best media smile and adjusts his towel. 

Even with his gaze on his phone he can still make out Sasha’s movements in the corner of his eye, can feel his cock thickening against his thigh, pressing against the rough fabric of the towel. He chances a glance over, finds Sasha’s heated gaze on him already, running his fingers teasingly along the front of his sweats where they’re tented obscenely.

Anton grins, laughs at something the man says and thinks about peeling the band of his sweats down. 

He gives his cock a light squeeze and smiles at the camera knowing they won’t know what he’s done.

He’s hard by the time the interview is done. His towel hits the floor as soon as he’s hung up, phone turned off to avoid any more interruptions and left carelessly on the table.

Sasha watches him with hungry eyes as he pads over to the couch, taking his time, looking his fill. He gives his cock a few loose strokes thinking about what he’d like to do now that they have time. 

“Going to finish what you started?” Sasha teases, thumb digging into the bite mark, vivid against his skin. His knees still ache from the shower tiles, but he lowers himself to the floor anyways, presses his lips to the mark in a featherlite kiss. 

Sasha shimmies out of his sweats, kicks them off and out of the way. He sits up, spreads his thighs to allow Anton space between them. He’d wanted to take his time with Sasha in the shower, to really make him fall apart with his hands and mouth but had had to hurry things along when they’d remembered the interview. 

He gets his chance now, mouthing wetly at the dark, swollen head. Sasha hums, rests a hand on the back of his neck like a reminder that if he doesn’t like Anton’s pace, he’ll gladly speed things along. With how impatient Sasha tends to be, he doesn’t have long to play, despite jerking him off in the shower before. He runs his lips along the length, sucks on his balls and listens to the way his breathing speeds up, feels the way his fingers tighten on Anton’s neck.

Sasha’s cock slides between his lips, stretching his mouth wide. He swallows around it easily, relishes in the stretch, in the way Sasha groans as he swallows him down until his nose is pressed to his pelvis. Sasha isn’t small by any means and his jaw quickly aches with the effort. He pulls back and off, takes a deep breath and does it again, lets Sasha’s cock rest in his throat. Sasha’s grip tightens, holds him there and tears form at the corner of his eyes. The hold releases and he eases back, breathes and does it again. 

He would stay there all day if he could, on his knees, Sasha’s cock buried in his throat, tears streaming down his cheeks. He’s spent enough time there, on his knees to make Sasha come, or just enjoying the feel of his cock, hard or soft, resting on his tongue as Sasha plays video games or Facetimes friends. 

This time when he eases back, he wraps his lips around the head, tonguing at the sensitive slit, wrapping his hand around the spit slick length. Sasha groans, hips moving. Anton feels it like a caress all the way down. His cock is aching, leaking between his thighs. He shifts and the tip brushes against the couch, sending sparks shooting along his spine. He does it again, ruts his hips forwards, feeling like nothing more than a bitch in heat, and swallows Sasha back down. 

Sasha grips his neck, guides him in a deep, slow rhythm. He swallows him down until he’s fucking Anton’s throat, then back enough that he can catch a breath. His lips feel swollen, abused and spit spills down his chin and neck leaving him a mess. His cock aches from the leather of the couch but he can’t still his hips as heat builds in his gut and his balls draw up. 

He moans as Sasha fucks in, sudden and rough, choking him. He barely has time to draw breath before he does it again. He spills down Anton’s throat abruptly, holds him in place, his mouth stuffed full as he’s forced to swallow. He drinks him down greedily, gets a hand around his own cock and comes, striping the couch in his release. 

Sasha lets him up enough to breathe, coughing to clear his throat. There’s come on his chin now, what he couldn’t swallow, mixed with spit. He licks his lips then leans back in, licks Sasha clean as best he can. 

He’d keep going if he could, wrap his lips around Sasha’s cock again, keep him warm, let him rest on his tongue and stretch his mouth wide, maybe try and get him hard again- though it’s harder for him to get it up again so soon. He likes to tease him about becoming an  _ old man- _ but Sasha complains about being over sensitive and pulls him up instead, tugs him in for a dirty, slow kiss.

He tips sideways, drawing Anton down on top of him and holding him close, as though he were trying to escape. He goes willingly, lets Sasha lick the taste of his own come from his mouth and hums happily as his weight is easily supported. 

“Insatiable,” Sasha murmurs against his lips. He sounds unbearably smug.

“Such a pretty cock,” Anton shoots back just to hear the laughter it pulls from Sasha. 

“The prettiest,” he agrees easily. He shifts his hips against Anton’s and grins. “But your mouth is prettier.”

He leers and Anton rolls his eyes but can’t help how he shivers, anticipation racing along his nerves. He doesn’t think it will be long before he gets what he wants again.


End file.
